


Say It With Flowers

by alex_fix



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: F/F, Happy Ending, I mean lots and lots of flowers, Lots of flowers, and misunderstandings, pure fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:00:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27914200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alex_fix/pseuds/alex_fix
Summary: Nicole gets an unexpected delivery from an admirer...
Relationships: Waverly Earp/Nicole Haught
Kudos: 91





	Say It With Flowers

Nicole wasn’t expecting anyone, wondering who was knocking on her front door at precisely 11.03am on a Friday morning in London, the decision to work from home that day the reason she heard whoever was outside. Opening the door, a young woman stood before her smiling, a large bouquet in her hand tied with a silky white ribbon. “These are for you. Enjoy your day,” the woman said, turning on her heels, heading back down the steps.

“Wait. I’m not expecting these. Who are they from?”

The woman was gone, Nicole none the wiser as to who she was, or why she now was in possession of flowers. She spied a small white envelope, tucked between the ribbon and the stems, pulling it out, extracting the card inside: 

If friends were flowers I’d pick you.

That was it. That was all the card read, written in blue ink, no clue as to the identity of the sender. She called her assistant, assuming a client must have sent them, assuming her assistant must have given the client her home address. “Jeremy, I’m looking a bunch of flowers, with a card that reads like some jerk sent them. Any ideas?”

“I promise I’ve not given out your private details,” Jeremy replied. “Any address, phone number on the card?”

Nicole turned it in her hands. “Only the florist’s. I could check. So much for not being disturbed today.”

She called the number, a woman answering, checking her orders. “Yes, someone asked for a mixed bouquet to be delivered to, let me see, it says 23 Primrose Gardens.”

“Ah, that explains it. I’m number 21. Would you like to come and collect them?”

“No, it’s fine,” the woman replied. “You can keep them. Our gift for the mistake.”

“Thanks. They’re lovely.”

Nicole laid the flowers on the table, admiring their colour, no idea what each flower was, taking in the heady scent of herbs mixed with the display. She wasn’t a flower person as such, not the sort of gift she would give, let alone appreciate receiving, preferring donuts over daisies, red wine over red roses. Cake, chocolates, a decent whiskey, they were gifts in her mind. Still, these were nice flowers, she thought, returning to her work, worried she hadn’t saved it. Ten minutes in she still was thinking about the flowers, guilty someone else, their intended recipient, would not get to enjoy them. 

The bunch of flowers in her hand, she rang the doorbell of No. 23, standing back, wondering if anyone would be in that time of day. She had only recently moved to the street, a six-month let while working in London, a recommendation by a friend who lived one street away. No answer. Clearly whoever the flowers were for wasn’t home. She was about to descend the steps when she heard the door open, turning, not expecting to see her neighbour, glad she had, glad she had someone that attractive living in the next house.

“Hi, I live next door,” Nicole said, offering the bouquet. “These are for you.” 

The woman looked at them, a little confused as to why she was being handed flowers. “Thanks. That’s really kind. Would you like to come in?”

“It’s okay. I’m behind on my work. They smell great.”

The woman held the bouquet to her nose, inhaling, a smile forming as her eyes closed. “They do. It’s wonderful. Thank you. I’m…I’m Waverly.”

“Nicole. I live next door.”

“You said. Are you sure won’t come in?”

“Another time, perhaps.”

Waverly was still standing on her doorstep as Nicole entered her house, closing her door, intrigued as to why someone would be sending her neighbour a bouquet with a weird message. Jeremy called to tell her he had scheduled a three o’clock call with New York and to find out if the mystery of the flowers had been solved. “They’re for my neighbour. She was as confused as I was. Must be a British thing.”

“Getting flowers, or being confused?” Jeremy asked.

“Both. They were lovely. Never had flowers sent to me. What do I need for my three o’clock?”

“The budget figures you’ve been working on,” Jeremy instructed. “And, the marketing plan if it’s finished.”

“Fuck, I’m so behind. Call me at two thirty to remind me.”

Nicole buried herself in her work, determined to be prepared for her afternoon call, any thought of flowers, or neighbours, or weird messages on cards removed from her mind. She had just made herself soup, returning to her desk, stressing about the final details to the marketing plan, when there was another knock on the door, the same florist standing with another hand-tied bunch of dahlias and herbs. Nicole shook her head. “Next door. They’re for next door. Number 23. I’m 21.”

The florist shrugged, walking away, Nicole left holding the bouquet. Another note: 

If I am a wave, then you are the sea. If you are a flower, then I am your bee.

Nicole rolled her eyes. Whoever was sending these was either desperate, or super creepy. She checked the time, ten minutes till her meeting, time to drop the flowers next door, calm herself before the phone call. Waverly answered, staring at Nicole with another bunch of flowers, Nicole holding them out. “And, these are for you too.”

“Thank you. You really shouldn’t have. Are you sure you won’t come in?”

“Work. Catch you later.”

Nicole only just made it in time for her call, an hour wasted trying to convince her bosses her ideas were the best way forward. “Guys, we need to seize this opportunity. If we don’t, someone else will, then our work will be for nothing.”

“I hear you,” one of her bosses said. “I get where you’re coming from. But, it doesn’t give us much time to plant the seeds to make this idea grow.”

“Exactly. Sometimes waiting for the right moment, or letting it grow into the right moment, means we miss what’s right in front of us. We can do this. The figures work.”

“Okay. I’ll take a look at them. You’re doing a great job.”

Call ended, she poured herself a small whiskey, thankful it was Friday, the end of a working week, not quite sure what she would do for the rest of the day, or the weekend. Another knock on the door. “If that’s more flowers, I swear.” 

Waverly was standing on the doorstep, a bottle of red wine in her hand. “I just wanted to say thank you.”

“For what?”

“For the flowers. You have no idea how much I needed them.”

“I’m glad you like them.”

Waverly remained on the doorstep, hugging the bottle with one hand, looking over Nicole’s shoulder. Nicole realised she was being rude, inviting Waverly in, retrieving two wine glasses from the shelf. “Seems a little early to be drinking, but I’ve had one hell of a day,” Nicole said, searching for a corkscrew.

“You’re American,” Waverly observed. “Love your accent. Where from?”

“New York. I’m getting used to British accents.”

Wine poured, glasses raised, they sipped in silence, neither knowing what to say. It took Waverly to break the ice. “They really are lovely flowers. You shouldn’t have.”

“It’s fine. When I saw them I knew I had to give them to you.”

“I adore the arrangement. So unusual adding herbs. And, the messages were lovely.”

“I know. Although, and please don’t take this the wrong way, a little creepy. Cute, but creepy. Creepy cute.”

“No, they were perfect. I was having such a miserable day. Then you showed up with the flowers and those notes. Kind of puts everything into perspective.”

“I’m glad. I wasn’t sure if you’d be in. I don’t usually work from home, so I’ve no idea who my neighbours are. At least I know one now.”

“I shouldn’t be here today either. My show was cancelled. Six months of work down the drain.”

“Wow, that must suck. I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It’s fine. At least I was in for the flowers. Hand delivered too. Very thoughtful.”

“As I said, I wanted you to have them. I was in two minds whether to, or not. But, now you have them, I’m glad. They’re too pretty for you not to have them.”

Waverly gazed into her wine glass. “I must admit this is a first for me.”

“Drinking with an American,” Nicole replied.

“No. Getting flowers from…”

“An American.”

Waverly raised her eyes. “A woman. It’s good. Very romantic.”

“I’m guessing you know who sent them.”

Waverly nodded. “Of course. Pretty obvious when someone stands on your doorstep.”

“Right. That’s the part that was worrying me.”

“There’s no need to be worried. I think it’s a really sweet gesture.”

“You don’t think it’s too much.”

Waverly took a sip of wine. “No, well a little. We Brits aren’t as forward. But, I like it. I like the directness. So, those words. Are they by someone you know?”

“What words?” Nicole asked.

“The wave and sea. Flower and bee. Guessed they’re a play on my name.”

“Right. Oh, right. Cos’ you’re Waverly. Wave. Yes, could be. I wouldn’t know.”

“So, they’re made up. That’s even more romantic.”

“I guess. Whoever sent them wanted you to know how special you are.”

“I honestly think romance is dying out,” Waverly said. “It’s all, let’s have a drink, let’s get into bed, I’ll call you. Which they never do.”

“Right, I hear you,” Nicole replied. “To have someone take the time to get to know you. To find out about you, to be thoughtful enough to want you to be happy.”

Waverly raised her glass again. “So, I’m guessing you’re single.”

“It’s my middle name. I’ve been so caught up in work. And, what with being here. I kind of miss not having someone to do special things with.”

“Same,” Waverly confessed. “My last boyfriend wasn’t exactly Mr. Romantic. That’s why the flowers were so special. Can’t begin to tell you how much receiving flowers, and cute notes, means to me.”

“I’m not a fan of flowers. But, if a girl wants them, who am I to judge.”

“So, I don’t want to be forward, but do you have any plans for tomorrow?”

“No,” Nicole replied. “Might meet a few friends. That’s about it.”

“Only, if you fancy going for lunch somewhere. I know a really nice bistro by the river. Cosy, intimate. I could reserve us a table.”

“Sounds perfect. I’ve not explored the area much. Mostly stuck behind a desk at work. Shame to waste an opportunity.”

A knock at the door interrupted their conversation, Nicole excusing herself. The florist was before her once more, nervously shuffling her feet, picking at the polish on one finger. “I’m really sorry, but we delivered flowers to the wrong address.”

“I know. Twice. Don’t worry, I’ve sorted it.”

“They were for number 32. I’m so sorry. If I could take the flowers, I’ll deliver them to the correct address.”

“Wait. You said number 23.”

“We have a new trainee. Only just realised the mistake. I should have checked before the orders went out. We’ve had so many calls today.”

“Not my problem,” Nicole said, closing the door on the flustered florist.

“Who was that?” Waverly asked, her eyes following Nicole.

“A sales person. Wanted to sell me a bible. So, who were you expecting to get flowers from?”

“No one. Until you showed up at my door.”

“And, you’re okay with me giving you flowers?”

Nicole observed Waverly’s eyes, noting the body language, the inability to look her in the eye. As a natural marketer, she knew when to grab an opportunity when it presented itself, and this was too good an opportunity to waste. “I wouldn’t normally send flowers, only I was hoping to get to know you.”

“I’m flattered,” Waverly replied . So, what do you want to know?”

“Everything. Who you are, what you do, what your plans are for the rest of your life.”

Waverly blushed. “Okay. I’m a dancer. I was supposed to be performing a new show in the West End, no current plans for the rest of my life. How about you?”

“Okay. I’m a marketing exec. I’m supposed to be getting us a new deal in Europe, hence being in London, no current plans for the rest of my life.”

Waverly took another sip of wine. “How did you know I’d be in today?”

Nicole’s brain went into overdrive. “Oh, well, you see. I kind of guessed. Fuck, okay. Look, the flowers aren’t from me. Some florist kept delivering them and when I called they said they were for you. So, I delivered them. Except, the person at the door just now said they’re for number 32.”

“Oh. Oh, right. So, you didn’t send them. Oh.”

“Look. If it’s any consolation. Now that I know you, I definitely would have sent them.”

Waverly stood, placing her glass down, her eyes not meeting Nicole’s. “Oh God, I’m so sorry. I thought you…I should be going.”

“No, Waverly stay, please. Honestly, you’re too pretty not to be sent flowers.”

“No, but. I thought. And, the messages. I’m really sorry. I made a mistake. God, I’m so embarrassed.”

Waverly headed towards the door, Nicole racing after her. “I’m still on for lunch, if that’s okay.”

Waverly opened the door, racing down the steps, Nicole realising the moment was lost. 

Both lay in bed that night, contemplating the events, neither knowing how to move forward. As morning broke both had resolved the issue in their minds, both determined not to let a misunderstanding get in the way of a blossoming friendship.

With no number, Nicole had but one option, heading to the high street, waiting for the shop to open. The woman behind the counter surprised to see someone in her shop this early. “Twenty three red roses please.”

The woman’s eyebrow raised. “Odd number. Scented, or unscented?”

“Scented, with a white bow. And, a small card with the message: To the beautiful woman who lives next door."

Bouquet in her hand she returned to her street, standing outside Waverly’s door, wondering if delivering that many roses at that time in the morning was the most insane thing she had ever done. She rang the bell, holding the bouquet behind her back, Waverly opening the door, staring at Nicole on her doorstep.

“Yet another wrong delivery. I swear I’ll sue that florist.”

Waverly received the bouquet, pulling out the card, her eyes telling Nicole all she needed to know. She entered Waverly’s house for the first time, the flowers placed on a table in the kitchen, waiting for their new owner to put them on display.

They were still in bed at four in the afternoon, both realising their new friendship had blossomed in a way neither quite expected. “I’d have settled for one rose,” Waverly said, brushing Nicole’s hair back.

Nicole winked. “I think you already have.”


End file.
